Of Contraceptives and Snogging
by Jack Of Some Trades
Summary: Ron tells the story of how he went from a Potions lesson to snogging his best friend in just three days.
1. Snape's Erectile Dysfunction

**__**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of someone else. Go read her work, I assure you that it's much better than my fluffy tripe.

Damn. Damn damn damn damn… you get the point.

My point is, I just kissed my friend. One of my best friends. In fact, it barely qualified as a kiss. It was more of a snog. I just snogged my best friend.

Damn.

How did I let this happen? How could Ronald Weasley fall so far into idiocy (**_"It wasn't that far of a fall"_**) as to do something so monumentally STUPID?

It started three days ago…

~*~

I was walking down the hall to Potions. Harry, the lucky prat, was injured from a deranged Quaffle (those things are dangerous; it was a Hufflepuff practice at the time), so I was walking alone to my _favourite_ class.

When I arrived I saw the usual group of Slytherin idiots standing outside the door, two of them doing something Hermione would no doubt disapprove of. When I saw Hermione approach from behind them, I discovered that I was right. (**_"For once."_**) Shut up, Ginny.

"Honestly," she muttered. _She's pretty when she's indignant,_ I thought, to which I added, _Don't think that about friends._ I likely would have had a long, tedious mental argument, but Snape chose that exact moment to let us in.

"Today, class, we will be… separating," Snape said, as if disgusted about something. Of course, there _were_ Gryffindors in the room. "Ladies, you will go with Professor McGonagall. Gentlemen… you stay with me."

Just then, the door burst open, and Harry rushed in and sat down next to Hermione and me. "Mr Potter, you're—" Snape looked up at the clock to decide just how many points to remove from our house—"right on time. Damn." At that point, McGonagall arrived in the door to escort the girls to wherever they were going, and in the noise I got to ask Harry what the bloody Hell he was doing there when he could be… anywhere but there.

"Madame Pomfrey told me to rush down here. She said that I would want to see this Potions lesson," Harry explained, rubbing his injured arm slightly. "I wonder what would be so important that she would send me away. Normally I have to beg to be released."

"Everyone kindly shut their mouths and turn their attentions to me," Snape said in his voice normally reserved for talking to Harry, Hermione, or me. "Now, this is not something I was hoping to ever have to teach, but apparently Headmaster Dumbledore finds me to be a better instructor in this than Professor Flitwick." As he was talking, he started handing out thin little textbooks. "You will need these."

He went back to the front of the class and wrote in glowing letters with his wand "Contraceptive Potion." This caused a wave of giggles and red faces in the room. Ginny, stop laughing.

"Everyone turn to page seventeen and copy the ingredients as precisely as humanly possible. There will be a test on this, as I don't think some of you should reproduce any time soon." He glared pointedly at Neville and went on. "As some of the smarter of you have figured out, your female classmates are taking similar lessons from Professor McGonagall. Do not let this influence your actions!"

We were shocked by the emphasis he put on it. "Birth control potions for women are sporadically effective at best. And for those of you with more intelligent girlfriends—" here he glared at me for some reason—"don't think you can get by on their skills alone. The potion only works if _you_ make it. Never EVER forget this." His eyes seemed to say, "Or else you might end up like Weasley's family." (**_"Idiot."_**) I know.

"Unfortunately, there's no truly effective way to see if you've done the potion right except by listening for the pitter-patter of little feet." I doubt I'll ever know just how he could make that sound so sinister. "However, the potions are orange, and one can usually tell by taste if it worked. It's disgusting. Truly, if the female equivalent is any worse, it's a wonder there aren't more of you. 

"By now, even the slowest of you should have had enough time to copy down the necessary ingredients and instructions, so you may start." He walked around, as if angry at us because our presence made him the one forced to teach us this.

"Each ingredient is extremely important," he went on, "and even one missing can have dire consequences. Never forget to add the Spanish Fly. It counteracts certain… side-effects the potion itself can have." He was almost blushing when he said that. Harry looked about to explode with laughter when he realised that Snape was probably speaking from experience. I had to cough to cover mine. I'll continue after you're done laughing.

I put more effort into that potion than any other I've done yet. It's not as if Snape has had anything important to teach yet anyway. The swamp water, the rabbit skin, the Spanish Fly (Neville almost forgot his)… it was the perfect potion. It was what perfect potions aspired to be. It was something a potion's wildest dreams… I'll just go on then, shall I?

~*~

By the end of class, everyone's potion was bubbling with an orange liquid, even Neville's. Even the Slytherins had found the lesson important enough to not goof up with.

"Very good… nice… sufficient… not bad, Longbottom. Better than I'm used to from you, anyway… excellent, Mr Malfoy…" Snape walked up and down the room assessing the potions. "Looks like I won't be forced to teach any more Weasleys or Grangers anytime soon…"

"What did he mean by that?" I whispered to Harry. He just shook his head and turned away. Kind of like how you're doing now.

"All of your potions were more than I've come to expect from most of you. I suppose your hormones are the controlling parts of you," Snape said coldly. "I won't require you to test it until the time comes in which you'll need to test it. Rest assured, if any of you have offspring before you leave school, you shall not pass Potions. Store your Contraceptive Potions and get out of my sight."

There was a small amount to store, so we used tiny vials. I actually have mine with me. No, you can't see it.

We met Hermione at lunch. She was blushing profusely when she saw us, and I can't imagine we were looking any less red. _She's cute when she's embarrassed,_ I thought. _Stop thinking that way!_

We ate in somewhat awkward silence, waiting for one of us to say something. It was Hermione who broke the silence. "So, how was class?" _Wrong topic, Hermione,_ I thought.

"Oh, fun. We got to learn about horrible tasting potions and Snape's erectile dysfunction," I replied. Harry coughed and nearly spat out his food while Hermione looked like a radish. _Cute,_ I thought again. _Stop it._

"Well, that was an image I could have done without," Harry said, pushing his plate away. Hermione and I followed suit. "Of course, the girl he took it for probably said the same thing."

"Eww. I don't want to think about a girl that would do _that_ with Snape."

"Can we please find a different conversation topic?" Hermione exclaimed. "How did you do with your potion?"

"Everyone's was fine. Even Neville's. He couldn't even find fault with ours," Harry told her.

"Really? That's great. Professor McGonagall told us that the potion works a lot better for men than it does women," Hermione said. "She said it was because a truly effective potion would have to be crafted to the cycles of that particular woman, and these are just general."

"Fascinating," I said sarcastically. I held up my vial of orange potion. "I can't believe this won't work if I'm not the one to make it."

"You're carrying yours around with you?"

"Why not?"

"What if you break it? You'd be in a spot then, wouldn't you?"

"Well even if I did, it's not as if I'm planning on shagging anyone any time soon!"

"That's not the point, Ron!"

"Well what is the point?"

"Never mind!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Harry had been watching us with an odd look on his face. In my opinion, that had hardly qualified as a fight. Far less than what we're used to. He looked like he was remembering something important

Just then, Snape's words came rushing back to me. _"Looks like I won't be forced to teach any more Weasleys or Grangers anytime soon…"_

He was saying that Hermione and I were… but we hadn't…He thought that I was in love with her. I looked over at her, with her arms folded and her nose turned up and I realised something. He was right.

I'd fallen for one of my best friends.

**__**

The End

Kidding. To be continued, as soon as I figure out where I'm going with it. In case you hadn't figured it out, Ron is addressing all this to Ginny. You'll find out why later. All of the bold italicised print is Ginny talking. Except this. And the disclaimer. That's me talking.


	2. Just How Many People Know, Anyway?

**__**

Disclaimer: Do not try this at home. This sort of writing should only be done by JK Rowling and trained professional idiots.

I was dazed all throughout my next couple of classes. Fortunately, they were History of Magic and Divination, so no one noticed.

I _liked_ Hermione. Looking back, I suppose it was obvious. Really obvious, in fact. Why _didn't_ I see it? Only took me five bloody years. Hell, after the Yule Ball… **_("And Viktor Krum?")_** That bloody slimy Bulgarian git had better keep his bloody hands off of her or I'll rip them off and shove them up his—oh, shut up, Ginny.

Anyway, no one really noticed that I was acting differently until dinner. Apparently I'm known for eating a lot, though why no one informed _me_ is beyond me.

"What's wrong, Ron? You're not eating like you usually do," Hermione said, leaning across the table to feel my forehead. "You feel a little warm. And you're flushed. Maybe you should go down to the hospital wing?" Of course I was flushed, she was inches away from my face. _She's been closer than that,_ I thought, but it wasn't really registering.

"Yeah, maybe," I said. "I'll just head up to the common room and snog—_snag_ a couple hours sleep then. Heh. Bye!" I rushed away before I could see if I could fit my entire bloody leg in my mouth. You know, if I bothered to laugh at the times you embarrassed yourself in front of Harry… not so funny now, is it?

Hermione'd set the password for the Fat Lady the day before and it wasn't really something I was about to forget. "Free the house-elves," I muttered as I went in. I ignored the few people in the common room, although I made a note not to sit anywhere near the fireplace until I saw what Fred and George had exactly done to it.

I went upstairs to my dormitory, and, having nothing at all better to do, I got to work on a Transfiguration essay. Did I mention I had _nothing_ better to do?

I got about a foot done before I decided that I would rather hug a Blast-Ended Screwt than continue. I would just do the respectable thing and finish it during breakfast the morning it was due. I did, incidentally, and Professor McGonagall said it was some of my best work. **_("Not that that's saying much.")_** Who asked you?

Harry came in after I'd been staring at the ceiling for about an hour and sat down. "Alright mate, what's wrong?" he asked.

"What 'what's wrong'? Nothing's wrong. Just realised I'm in love with one of my best friends, and I have been for years," I responded.

"Aww, I'm flattered Ron, but you're not the Weasley I'm attracted to," Harry smirked. I hit him with a pillow.

"Shut up. It's Hermione."

"Of course it is. It always has been."

"Wait, you knew? And you didn't tell me?" I was about to hit him.

"Well, it was rather obvious Ron," he said. I would have told him he sounded like Percy, but he went on. "I mean, in second year, who did you go into the Forbidden Forest for? Who did you throw up slugs for?"

"Hermione," I muttered. Damn him for being so… correct.

There was silence for a bit. I really was getting tired, and he was half-asleep soon. "Hey Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Just how many people know?"

"Go out into the common room. Count the people in there, the people in their beds, and subtract Hermione. That covers it."

"Ah."

~*~

The next day, two days ago if you're keeping count, I was able to act perfectly normal around Hermione. Of course, I had help.

"Mrn'n Mione," I grunted through a mouthful of eggs at breakfast. Laugh if you will, but my elbow was butter-free, thank you. Which is more than you can say around Harry half the time.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she said instantly. "I see your appetite is back."

"Yeah. Guess I just needed a good night's sleep." I took a drink of my pumpkin juice and went on. "So, did I miss anything important after I left?"

"No. Just some late post from—just some late post." Something in the way she said it made me suspicious. Perhaps it was the way she backtracked, or the way she suddenly looked away when she said it. Or maybe it was the way she was blushing like a rose on fire.

"Really? From who?" I asked. 

She mumbled something I didn't pick up. "What's that?"

She sighed. "Viktor."

"Ooh, post from _Vicky_." **_("Nice, Ron.")_** Yes, I know I was a jackass. Refrain from commenting until I'm done, I got a lot worse.

"His name is _Viktor_, not Vicky. And he never did anything to you, Ron, for you to dislike him so much."

I scoffed. Truly, he didn't, but still. "I don't care if he shagged the bloody Queen. Write to whatever eighteen-year-old Bulgarian gits you want."

"Ron!"

"Hermione!"

"He is not a 'git', he's very intelligent, and what a horrible thing for you to say!"

"Okay, Hermione, I'm horrible. Sorry."

"That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Never mind then!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Harry had, apparently, been watching from the sidelines for a while, and took this moment to hazard a leap into the conversation. "Good morning!" he said far more cheerily than was usual out of him.

"Hmph." Hermione turned her face away from me rather sharply and greeted Harry.

I took a piece of toast and used the butter as a flavouring ingredient, and not as an elbow lubricant. Ow! Fine, I won't mention it any more. No need to hit me.

"So Hermione, are you ready for the Defence Against the Dark Arts test?" Harry asked, probably trying to lighten the mood. With schoolwork. That's how bad it was.

"I'm not sure. Professor Renard said the Erectus Charm would be on there, didn't she? She never got through the name without giggling," Hermione responded, flustered.

"What's it matter? You know how to do it," I pointed out. "For that matter, you know everything. That's one of the perks of being a know-it-all."

Hermione didn't bother to respond, but I imagine she rolled her eyes. She was looking through her bag for her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook, so I couldn't be sure.

She slammed it on the table and flipped through it. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on the pages, her fingers swiftly but gently tracing their way through the words, like a swan riding on the cl—well, er, that's not exactly important.

"Ah!" she cried, finding the spell. "The Erectus Charm. It leaves the victim standing perfectly straight, unable to bend his neck, waist, or knees."

"Well what's the point of that?" Harry pointed out. "They can still use their wand."

"Yes, but you can get out of their way, and it's not as if they're about to follow you. They can't move their legs. And there's no counterspell for it, you just have to let it run its course."

"Well, let's hope she's not teaching that to the seventh years. Imagine the havoc the twins would wreak with a spell like that," I observed. Just then, the bell rang, and we ran off to be tested on the Erectus Charm and other such temporary-but-incurable curses.

You can yell at me about Krum now.

Really, go ahead.

Nothing?

**__**

The snogging will commence soon, never you worry. It just takes time, and patience. Rome wasn't built in a day you know. There's been unresolved sexual tension for five years now; they can wait a few more chapters.


	3. Spiders and Roses and Owls, Oh My!

**__**

Disclaimer: You know, if JKR doesn't get around to writing Order of the Phoenix_, I may just lay claim to Harry Potter and write it myself. I'd like to see her stop me; I'm bigger than she is. _

You know, except maybe Professor Lupin, my favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts professor has to be Professor Renard. Her lessons are actually useful, _and_ she's not evil. Well, as far as I can tell.

Hermione was right; the Erectus Charm was on the test. And I imagine she got perfect marks on it, owing to the fact that she's too smart for her own good and all.

The test wasn't too hard, believe it or not. I think I did well. Better than Neville, anyway, who giggled along with Professor Renard whenever she said the name of the spell. "And the Erectus… hehehe… Charm is done simply by thrusting your wand… heh… and shouting 'Erectus Corpus!'"

After Defence Against the Dark Arts, we had Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid must be ill or something, because the only creatures we had to deal with were owls. Most people brought a school owl, but those of us who did have them brought ours. If you can call Pig **_("Pigwidgeon.") _**an owl at all.

"All right now. Yer owls're very sensitive to yer spells," he told us, appraising everyone's bird. "Yer snowy owls and the eagle owls'll react different, but if you use the right charms, you're fine."

Mum told Hermione she could use Errol, because "those school owls are hardly good enough, dear." Not that Errol is much better, mind, being the feather duster he is. He kept falling asleep halfway through Hermione's stamina spells. Finally, I got fed up with him.

"Here," I said, putting Pig's cage in front of her and taking Errol's.

"Ron… I couldn't," she replied.

I scoffed. "You try nailing that bloody feathery git with a charm. You're doing me a favour."

She laughed a little, and turned her attention to the cage. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

When I took Errol back to where I'd been not hitting Pig, I saw Hagrid wink at me, and I decided that Harry was right. Everyone _did_ know.

~*~

You've noticed how spry Errol seems lately? Well, I used the wrong spell on him. It worked out better though. Instead of _Buho_ _Reenergizium_ I used _Buho Rejuvenatius_. One makes the animal feel younger; the other makes the animal actually younger. I'm surprised no one did it to him before.

Anyway, after class, when Hermione gave me a rather more-than-usually excited Pig, we went in for lunch. No one spoke as we ate, except for Hermione, who poked the roast beef and muttered "slave labour".

"So, did you finish your Transfiguration essay?" she asked me after we finished. I think my eyes widened considerably.

"Damn it!" I exclaimed.

"Ron!"

I ignored her and searched through my bag for my half-finished essay. "How long was it supposed to be again?" I asked when I pulled it out.

"A foot and a half," she replied while unrolling her three feet of parchment.

"Oh." That wasn't so bad. "Hey, since you've obviously done at least twice that, no chance I could borrow a measly six inches?"

"No, but you can borrow a quill." She dropped it on my paper, and the way it landed screamed "Start writing unless you don't want to hear the end of it."

I picked it up and, seeing it was self-inking, started scribbling furiously. She, meanwhile, was double-checking hers for errors, which was no small task. Harry had wandered off somewhere, leaving us alone. Come to think of it, I still don't know where he went. Why're you turning red? 

I think I only lifted the quill a couple times, even on the way to class. I finished it just as we entered the door, charmed it dry, and sat down with a sigh. That's when I noticed there was a rock on my desk and a Harry to my right.

"Where'd you disappear to?" I asked. To the Harry, not the rock.

"I had to go help G…eorge. He needed… er… the Map," he replied, staring at the rock in front of him. I shrugged.

"Wands out, everyone," McGonagall said when everyone sat. "I trust you all took the notes I assigned?"

__

No, I thought. Hermione, however, looked not only prepared, but also eager.

"Today, we're going to be doing floral Transfiguration. Now, while this may seem a step down from animal Transfiguration, it isn't. Plant Transfiguration requires more finesse and effort, which means you have to focus exactly on what you want your plant to look like." She lifted the rock on her desk. "You'll be working with these, transforming them into roses. Five points to Gryffindor if anyone in here does it perfectly."

Believe it or not, I was _prepared_. I knew how to make the perfect rose. See, when Charlie gave me his wand, he taught me a couple things. Two, to be exact. That slug curse that didn't work out too well, and this.

I pointed my wand at the rock, with my wand held at just the right angle. "_Rocher Rosa Asula_!" I said, and in a flash of light, a blue rose was sitting before me.

"Wow," Hermione whispered, seeing the flower. Hers was red, but aside from that, it was a very near copy of mine.

"Wow indeed, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said. I hadn't noticed her before, but she was standing right beside our table. Harry's didn't look so bad either, except that it was still rock hard. "_Ten_ points to Gryffindor. Well done, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley."

I heard Harry whisper, "How did you _do_ that?"

I grinned and replied, "Lady Luck." Which was true, I wouldn't have been able to do it if I hadn't been lucky enough to have already known it.

"'Lady Luck,'" Harry scoffed. "I know luck, that isn't luck. Didn't come from any lady, either."

~*~

By the end of the class, most everyone had some progress done on their roses. Harry's ended up rather nice looking, although he lost some points for not having any thorns. I think I should have taken Muggle Studies, because I heard Hermione singing, "Every rose has its thorn," and I had no idea why Harry glared at her for it.

After class, I waited for Hermione who was talking to Professor McGonagall. Again. Professor Sprout was generally nice about being late for class anyway.

When she finally came out, I pulled out my rose. "Hermione?"

"Ron?"

"You know, I'm probably just going lose or smash this thing. Why don't you take it?" I asked, holding it out for her.

"Thank you Ron, it's beautiful." There was an awkward silence until she thought to check the clock. "Oh no, we're going to be late!"

Before I had the time to make a scathing-but-light-hearted retort, she gripped my wrist and half-dragged me to Herbology. All the while, I kept thinking _She's holding your hand! Say something you idiot!_

We arrived, thanks to Hermione's quick feet, seconds before the class started. We've been working with Dreary Spider Scrubs, which I've very successfully avoided.

"Everyone here?" Professor Sprout asked. She looked around the room and nodded. "Yes? Good. Now, everyone raise their wand arm."

I tried, but I couldn't. "Hermione, I'm going to need that back," I whispered. She stammered an apology when she realised she hasn't let my wrist go, and let me raise my hand.

Professor Sprout waved her arm around and all ours were instantly covered in arm-length gloves of some kind, far more protective than the short dragon hide gloves we wore normally. "Everyone is to harvest at least a dozen spiders from their scrubs," she explained. I went white. "These gloves should keep them from crawling onto your skin." The "should" in there scared me.

I was sharing with Harry and Hermione, both of whom had two already. _Come on, are you a Gryffindor or not? _I thought, staring at the evil little plant-arachnids climbing through the leaves. I closed my eyes, snatched one, and tossed it into my jar.

By the end of the class period, I had got up the courage to do that nine more times. On the last one, it escaped my hand and crawled up my other arm. The little thing would have bitten me if I hadn't smashed it.

I slammed the lid shut on my jar and ran over to the sink. "Nasty little things," I muttered, washing off the spider goo. Sprout started collecting them when I was washing up, so I rushed back.

"Potter? 11… 13?" she counted, holding Harry's jar. "Granger? 15…17…19? Nicely done, Miss Granger." I thought for a moment that I was going to be the only student in the class who didn't get all his spiders. "An even dozen, Weasley?" Huh?

I looked to Harry, and he pointed at Hermione. "Thank you," I whispered as emphatically as I could.

"It was only three. And I'm not doing it for any other class," she whispered back. "And you're welcome."

~*~

Nothing really important happened for the rest of the night. Except that you stole Harry and wouldn't give him back. What were you doing with him, anyway? And why are you red again? Are you getting sick?

**__**

Ron isn't the most observant of all students, is he? Poor dear. 

You know, looking over this, a lot of this sounds horrible when taken out of context. The worst would be "How long is it supposed to be?" That makes me giggle. And I wrote it not even thinking that way!


	4. Snogging Not Contraceptives

**__**

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. And the devil owns JK Rowling, according to the psychotic Potter-haters. So if I own the devil, I own JK Rowling, and therefore I own Harry Potter… interesting. You don't reckon Lucifer will just jump in my book bag, do you?

Yesterday, my very first class of the day was Potions with Snape and his little Slytherin bootlickers. Since, obviously, contraceptives were done with, he moved on to love potions, which happen to be forbidden, you know. Of course you would know. Mum nearly got suspended for that trick she did when she was in school.

"Most love potions are banned by Hogwarts, and many by the Ministry," Snape told us, as if we needed to hear. "However, many can be used under loopholes, such as 'if you're already in love.'" He said this with more disgust than he did with the birth control class. "One such potion happens to be in your book, the Besarus Potion, but we won't be learning it in class. Today we learn the Amourus Impervius Potion, which keeps love potions and spells from working for twenty hours. Please keep in mind, I will be testing you with a real love potion, and if you feel any feelings at all for your neighbours, I'd advise you to move."

There was Spanish Fly in this one too for some reason. Not that I'll be admitting it to anyone, but Potions isn't as bad as Snape tries to make it. It's like cooking. Ooh, bad comparison with you, isn't it, Miss I-Can-Burn-Water?

Anyway, I did okay with the potion. Harry and I were sharing a cauldron with this one, while Hermione and Neville (who was grateful to have her as a partner, lest he started to snog some Slytherin) had another.

I ended up testing the potion, which made me glad Hermione was out of range. I didn't end up with Harry's lips on mine, so I can only assume it went well. I think Snape is getting angry about the fact that I'm doing well. Or about the fact that I've neither snogged nor shagged Hermione in his classroom.

Not that I've shagged her elsewhere, mind.

~*~

"Ugh! Double Potions with the Slytherins… what a way to start a day," I complained as soon as the dungeons were no more than a bad memory. Harry nodded and tried to clear the Snape-induced haunted look from his eyes.

"I don't know, that class was rather useful," Hermione said.

"You're only saying that because you don't like Veela."

"I am not, I'm saying it because it's true. It's nice not being able to be controlled like that."

"I think I need a new bag," Harry said suddenly. I think he was trying to diffuse a fight that might have happened.

"It does look rather… shabby," I commented, poking through a hole. "Even worse than mine." You know how Mum's always reinforced our bags. "We have a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow, maybe you can get one there."

Hermione nodded. "I've had to get more new bags than I can count, and I've performed a lot of repairing spells."

"That's probably because you carry half the bloody library in it wherever you go," I retorted.

"Ron! Don't curse."

I nudged Harry. "Notice how she doesn't deny it," I said in a stage whisper. Hermione just "hmph"ed and went in the other direction. "Where're you going?" I called after her.

"I have to take some books back to the library."

~*~

Later, when I was beating Harry at chess that evening, everyone was talking about the weekend. Almost everyone, anyway. Fred and Angelina were snogging on the sofa in front of the fireplace, and Hermione had checked out the other half of the library. But everyone else was.

"Ha! Check!" Harry cried. I looked at the board for a couple seconds.

"Knight to Queen's Bishop Four. Checkmate. Sorry, better luck next time," I said, while Harry was ignoring the jeers from his chessmen.

I ran upstairs to put my pieces away and when I got back, Harry had disappeared. Again. I sat at Fred and Angelina's vacated spot. Hermione wasn't too far away, practising her conjuring. She pulled a sugar quill out of thin air, looked at it for a second, then tossed it away. "Hey!" I complained when the nib hit me on the forehead.

"Oh! Sorry, Ron. I was just trying to get this spell right," she said, barely looking up.

"What's wrong with it that you had to throw it so violently?" I asked, biting off the tip. It was apple-cinnamon.

"It's supposed to be peach," she complained, waving her wand again. A pink quill floated into her lap. "Here, taste it."

"It's plum," I said, eating the whole thing rather quickly. I prefer plum, you know.

"Damn."

"_What?_" **_("_What?_")_**

"Darn," she said, flustered.

"You didn't say 'Darn,' you said 'Damn.' I'm rubbing off on you!" I gleefully pointed out.

"You are not. It just slipped. I'm having a hard time getting this stupid quill to come out right."

"I can help. I'll be your taste-tester."

She rolled her eyes at my kind, generous, and unselfish offer. "Thanks, but I think I'll just stop for the night."

I think I actually was shocked that time. "Hermione Granger, giving up before she's conquered a spell? Are you sick?"

She laughed sarcastically. "Oh, and by the way Ron, this got into my bag somehow." She pulled out my Contraceptive Potion, still glowing orange. "You're lucky it didn't get crushed."

"That's not luck," I countered. It must have happened that day I figured out how much in love with her I was. After five years. Yes, I know I'm an idiot. "That's skill. I put an Unbreakable Charm on it." I banged it against the table and threw it in the air. "See?"

"Ron! Be careful. Unbreakable Charms have been known to… break, under the right conditions," she chided.

"Then they're not unbreakable, are they? That's false advertising, that is. Something can be broken, or it can't. It can't be 'unbreakable except under very specific conditions.'"

"No need to yell at me, Ron, I didn't name the spell."

"I didn't say you did, 'Mione."

"''Mione?'"

I thought for a second. Where had that come from? "What, you don't like it?" I asked.

"Well, I don't _not_ like it," she said tentatively.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. "You want to move, little brother?" said Fred, who was behind me with Angelina and looking hor…ribly impatient. Heh.

I moved to the chair next to Hermione, making sure to pocket my potion. Wouldn't want to just _hand_ Fred material, would I? "Come on, let's move," I whispered. I had little desire to watch my brother and his girlfriend.

Once they were out of our range of vision, our conversation resumed. "What were we talking about, 'Mione?" I asked.

"That. Your name for me."

"I'm sorry, you prefer your full name?"

"Well… I suppose ''Mione' _is_ better than 'Hermy,'" she admitted.

"Damn right it is." I snorted. "Hermy."

~*~

Up until we went to bed (separate beds, thank you), we just talked. Mostly about little stupid things like class, and Harry, and you—ow! Anyway, some of the stuff was important. I didn't ask her to the Yule Ball or anything, but we got through an entire discussion about Krum without me saying the word 'Vicky' once.

Okay, maybe once, but that was it.

~*~

This morning, I was up late, especially for a Saturday. Hermione was too, which surprised me. The common room was practically empty, except for Dennis Creevey and some other second and first years. They were talking about some game, since it was nice out and they didn't get to go to Hogsmeade.

"Morning, Her-miiii-one," I said through a yawn. I was going to sit, but she grabbed my arm and led me to the portrait.

"I want to get to breakfast," she explained. "Come on."

We were at the Gryffindor table so fast I could have sworn she used a Portkey. Her plate was already half full by the time I sat down and helped myself to a waffle. "There's a new book I wanted to see about in the bookstore, it's about Arithmancy, and Professor Vector highly recommended it." When I first met Hermione, she started talking without bothering to breathe. She said all this in very much the same manner. "What about you?"

I shrugged. "I was out of sugar quills, but I suppose I can take your rejects for a while," I grinned. She threw a breakfast roll at me. "I suppose I'm going to check out Zonko's to see if they have anything else to protect me from the twins."

"Sounds good. Are you ready?"

"I think so." I checked my pockets. "Wait, I forgot my money and my wand."

We went back up to Gryffindor Tower, and I ran up to my dormitory to get my stuff. Some house-elf had been kind enough to place them on my bed, probably taking them out of yesterday's robes.

I came back out into the common room and looked around for Hermione. She had sat down in front of the fire and picked up a book to flip through. I leapt over the back of the couch to sit beside her.

"Ready to go?" I asked. She put down the book and I could see its title: _Hogwarts, A History._

"Ron, why do I keep ending up with this?" she asked. She was holding up my Contraceptive Potion.

"I don't know," I replied, putting it in my pocket. "Maybe it likes you."

She smirked and started to get up. Then she sat back down very suddenly. "You know, Hogsmeade can wait," she said.

"What do you mean?" I said, but I was starting to feel the same for some reason. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to stay on the couch with her forever.

"There are… other things we can do. Being all alone like we are."

I cocked an eyebrow. I couldn't take my eyes off Hermione's lips, so… _perfect_. I moved closer to her and smiled. "Such as?"

"Well," she said breathlessly. Her head was very close to mine. "We could play… chess."

"I think," I replied, "I would like very much to play chess."

"Then let's play." With that, she brought her lips to mine. It was as if the Cruciatus Curse ran through my body, only pleasant. I kissed her back, putting my hand behind her head. 

Her tongue started to **_(I don't want to hear this!)_** Oh. Sorry. Right.

Anyway, suffice to say there was passion. I don't think I thought of anything except her, until her body pressed the vial into my thigh. That brought me to thinking of it, and of the fact that I might soon need to use it. That was enough to shock me out of my Hermione-induced trance.

I suppose once I broke away so suddenly, she snapped out of it too. Neither of us could look at each other. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I got up and ran as fast as I could. I jumped into the hole behind the one-eyed witch and came to Hogsmeade as fast as I could. I slipped past the shopkeeper and walked in the Three Broomsticks, where I saw you, and you know the rest.

**__**

We are nearing completion of this story. One last chapter and perhaps an epilogue. And this would be my quickest done many-chapter story.


	5. Date in Hogsmeade

**__**

Disclaimer: See, if I had had control of Harry Potter from the start, it probably would have turned into some sappy romance involving either him and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, Draco and Myrtle, or Padfoot and some random poodle. Maybe it's better JKR controls it.

Ron drained the rest of his butterbeer and put his head on the table. Ginny was really too shocked to say anything.

"I'm an idiot," Ron told the table.

The table didn't respond.

"What am I going to do? I just ruined my relationship with the woman I love!"

"You could try talking to her," said a voice behind him. Ron's face instantly went white.

"Hermione," he tried to say, though it came out as no more than a whisper. He tried again. "Hermione. Er…"

"Ginny, would you excuse us, please?" Hermione asked. Ginny nodded and got up. "We need to talk, Ron," she said, once she had taken Ginny's vacated seat.

"Yes, I imagine we do." Why wouldn't Ron's voice work?

"Listen, I'm not angry about you running off," Hermione said. "I was about to do the same myself."

That didn't make Ron feel a whole lot better. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be."

"But I am! I feel like… like I've ruined everything!" Ron exclaimed.

"One of us would have anyway," Hermione said quietly.

"What?"

"Don't you get it, Ron? You didn't trick me into kissing you, you didn't force me to kiss you, I kissed you because I chose to, Ron. I kissed you because I love you."

__

She… loves me… Ron thought, and that was the only thought in his head before he passed out.

~*~

Ron woke up a few minutes later, facedown on the table. _Ah, table. We meet again,_ he thought wryly.

"Ron? Are you alright?" Hermione asked when Ron showed signs of being alive.

"Yes, but I had this wonderful dream in which you loved me and I was talking to a table… oh." He realised Hermione really did love him and he really had been talking to a piece of furniture.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a few moments. Then Ron asked, "So, where exactly do we go from here?"

"I don't know. I've never done this before."

Ron had the urge to say "Not even with Vicky?" but held back. Instead, he said, "Neither have I."

There was more silence for a little bit, then Ron said, "Can I buy you lunch?"

Hermione laughed, not at Ron but at the situation, and smiled. "Of course."

~*~

Ron proved to be quite the gentleman. He paid for her meal, her drinks, as well as the bag that she'd come to get in the first place. True, by the end of the day he was broke, but he didn't care.

"I've had fun today, Ron," Hermione said. Ron echoed her sentiment. "But to be honest, I still don't know what came over me this morning."

"I think I might," a strong voice said from behind Ron. He turned around to see Angelina holding Fred and George by the ear. She threw them into separate chairs and pointed her wand threateningly. "Talk."

Fred and George looked from each other to Ron and Hermione. "Fine, but promise not to kill us."

"Don't expect anything in writing," Angelina countered. "Speak."

Fred sighed. "We put Besarus Potion on the cushions. Anyone in love who sat there wouldn't be able to keep their hands off each other."

"But Hermione and I sat there last night, and nothing happened until this morning," said Ron.

"We'd taken that potion yesterday morning, it protected us," said Hermione. "But this morning, we didn't have anything." Then, after she had analysed what had happened, it registered in her heart. "So that kiss, and this whole day… it was a mistake." Before Ron could say anything, she ran out of the Three Broomsticks.

"Hermione!" Ron called after her, but she was already gone. He turned his attention to his brothers. "You _idiots!_ What were you thinking?!"

Both Fred and George had been the recipients of Ron's anger before, but never like this. They looked as if they would rather shag Lord Voldemort himself than sit where they were sitting. "We figured that, since it wouldn't affect anyone that wasn't in love anyway…" He trailed off under the furious glare of Ron.

"I should kill you," said Ron, shaking with rage. "But that would be too easy. I'm going to do far worse." He pulled out his wand and leveled it at his brothers, who flinched and closed their eyes. "_Erectus Duo Corpi!_"

The twins instantly straightened and flailed their arms frantically. If they weren't scared for their lives, they would find it quite funny. Ron cleared his throat and put his wand away. "I'm telling Mum."

The fear Fred and George had felt before paled in comparison to their fear right then. Their words tangled in their mouths as they tried to beg Ron not to tell their mother, but he was already headed out the door.

He saw Hermione leaning against the wall of a nearby building. Her head was hidden in her knees, and her shoulders were shaking. She was crying.

Ron never knew exactly what to do when women were crying, especially not now. However, instinct overrode indecision and he ran to her side. "Hermione, please don't cry," he said as comfortingly as he could.

"Why not? This whole thing… us… we're a mistake!" she sobbed, not even lifting her head.

"Hermione, you're smarter than that."

"What?" she said, lifting her head.

"You know how the Besarus Potion works," he told her, wiping her tears with his sleeve. "It wouldn't have worked if we weren't already in love." He helped her to stand, and held her tightly.

"But still, even then, if it weren't for that potion we never would have kissed," Hermione said. She'd stopped crying, but the tears were still apparent in her voice.

Ron put his finger under her chin and tilted her head upwards. "Maybe our first kiss _was_ a mistake," he said, staring into her brown eyes. "But we have the rest of our lives to correct it." Ron brought his lips to hers gently, but with more love than either thought themselves capable of. In this one kiss, they spoke without words, moved without bodies, and first felt the incomprehensible power of forever.

**__**

This one is the last chapter. It's over. Except for the epilogue, of course, which isn't much. Maybe a page or so.


	6. Sweet, Sweet Justice

**__**

Disclaimer: JK Rowling is superior to me in many ways. Of course, I get my chapters out quicker, so if you love me more than her, I completely understand. In fact, I encourage such Jack-love. Shout it from the mountains, speak to the rivers and the valleys and the skies, "I love Jack!"

It was the next Saturday morning when it arrived.

Ron and Hermione were sitting together, in the way that couples do, at the Gryffindor table (not to be confused with Table, the furniture Ron had befriended the previous weekend in Hogsmeade). Harry and Ginny, who were sitting in a very similar way, weren't far from them. Fred and George were hiding under their seats.

Understand, when Ron told the twins he was going to tell their mother, he had every intention of doing it. However, he found it more appropriate and evil to utilise a far more effective tool of vengeance. Hermione had suffered as much as, if not more than, Ron had, and therefore had a surplus of anger waiting to be wrathfully unleashed upon the most deserving victim. They went to the post office, where Hermione paid for a most devastating Howler, to be delivered a week from that day.

The owls flew in earlier than usual, and a scarlet letter was clutched in the talons of one. It fell where George and Fred would be sitting, had they not been underneath it. They peeked over the edge of the table at the innocent-looking piece of evil post. Ron found it very hard to keep a straight face.

It started to smoke at the corners, and either twin started pressuring their brother to open it. Finally, it took care of the problem for them.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! HOW _DARE_ YOU SPREAD SUCH A POTION IN SUCH A PUBLIC PLACE! WHO KNOWS HOW FAR IT COULD HAVE GONE, IS THERE A BRAIN IN EITHER OF YOUR HEADS? THERE APPARENTLY CAN'T BE, SINCE YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA! IF YOU _EVER_ SO MUCH AS THINK ABOUT DOING ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN, NO CURSE OR HEX IN THE WORLD WILL SAVE YOU FROM ME!" With that pleasant message, it burst into a rather short-lived flame.

Applause started from Ron, then spread quickly throughout the Gryffindor table. Soon the entire hall was clapping, especially the Slytherins, who were more than happy to kick a fallen classmate while he was down.

After they realised they were still alive, both Fred and George smiled. They jumped up on the table and bowed to the applause, blowing kisses at their "fans".

"Well, I hope they've learned their lessons," said Hermione after the clamour died down.

"I don't know, Hermione. This is Fred and George we're talking about," Ron replied. Hermione shrugged and grinned.

"I think they'll be afraid of me for some time."

Ron thought for a moment, then nodded. "Good," he said decisively. "They need some fear in them."

Hermione laughed and looked into Ron's eyes. "I love you," she said suddenly.

"I love you too."

No amount of Howlers could have torn Ron's eyes from Hermione's. The world existed only between them.

And that was the way they liked it.


End file.
